


Your Rainbow Will Come Smiling Through

by Devilc



Category: Scoring Chances Series - Avon Gale
Genre: M/M, Mention of Domestic Violence, Mention of Penis St. Dickhead, Waffle House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: "Laurent?"  Issac heard a woman's voice call from the edge of the shadows as they exited the arena towards the parking lot one evening after a game.  "Laurent, please!" There was a desperation in the words that tugged at Issac's heart.Laurent's hand tightened on his and his gaze answered the question Issac asked with his eyes -- he had no idea why a woman would be calling his name.
Relationships: Issac Drake/Laurent St. Savoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Your Rainbow Will Come Smiling Through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marmolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/gifts).



> Title is a line from "A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes" -- because if anybody deserves dreams come true, it's Laurent & Issac.
> 
> The Prompt was:  
> HELLO I would enjoy any fic about any of these characters!Here are some particular interests:  
> \- Isaac and Xavier's pre-canon relationship!How did they end up hooking up?What did they get up to together?How did the breakup go down?Any of those would be great!  
> \- Isaac/Max/Misha threesome would be a dream come true but I'd also be down for any sub-combo thereof.We know Isaac thinks Max is hot, and he's practically walked in on Max and Misha before.And, I'll be honest, I'm kind of down for the semi-incestuous vibe of Isaac/Misha, esp with their shared sex work backgroudn.  
> \- Isaac's pre-canon time as a sex worker  
> \- Misha's pre-canon time as a sex worker  
> \- AU where Max and Misha had hooked up before the career-ending injury?That would definitely be interesting.  
> \- literally anything, I'm down for any AU, canon divergence, pre-canon, post-canon, missing scenes, PWP, seriously whatever
> 
> Well, this isn't Pr0n, but it is post-canon, so ....

"Laurent?" Issac heard a woman's voice call from the edge of the shadows as they exited the arena towards the parking lot one evening after a game. "Laurent, please!" There was a desperation in the words that tugged at Issac's heart.

Laurent's hand tightened on his and his gaze answered the question Issac asked with his eyes -- he had no idea why a woman would be calling his name.

"Who are you?" Issac called back as he and Laurent kept moving forward towards the gate that lead toward parking lot and their car.

She stepped forward, still mostly backlit by the lights, tall, willowy, dressed in a black leather jacket and white scarf, with long dark hair. Even with her features mostly in shadow, Issac could tell she had an extremely fair complexion. She strode forward, purposefully now, her boot heels click click clicking on the concrete as she closed the distance. Her words had a soft French accent, "Laurent, I'm sorry to come at you like this, but --" 

"You're my mother," Laurent finished.

"Yes," She replied, and a bittersweet smile crossed her face. "Like I said, I'm sorry to come at you like this, but I just now found out -- can we talk? _Please?_ "

"Everything cool here, Drake?" Hux's voice came from over one shoulder, but before Issac could say anything, it was followed by, Murph's, "Holy shit, Saint, is this like, your mom? I mean, I heard she was a model, but _daaamn_!"

~oo(0)oo~

Issac once heard a statistic that FEMA or one of those federal disaster agencies judged how bad a storm was in the South by seeing how many Waffle Houses had closed. They're a place synonymous with warmth and comfort in the South … so it was really kind of appropriate that he, Laurent, and Solange, Laurent's mother, ended up in one, even though the disaster and storm in question had nothing to do with the weather outside.

Turns out pretty much everything Penis St. Dickhead ever told Laurent about his mother was a lie. _Quelle surprise_. Oh, except for the part where she was a model. That was true. Issac figured she was at least as old as Misha, maybe a year or two older, but she had aged so well, she looked like she could be Laurent's older sister. Only her eyes looked old. They might have been the same warm brown as Laurent's, but a glance into their depths showed that they'd seen and lived through a lot.

The words poured out of her in a torrent as soon as the waitress seated them and got their coffee.

She'd learned about the fall of Penis St. Dickhead only a few days ago. She found YouTube footage of Laurent playing for the Spitfires, and few more videos plus little googling helped her fill in the rest. So she took a chance, got on a plane in Montreal earlier today, drove in the rest of the way from Atlanta, found a hotel nearby, and then went to the arena.

She was 19 and from a little town in Quebec called La Baie, and so excited to be going to college in Montreal, where she got "discovered" and taken to New York to model, and then she met Penis St. Dickhead at a club. He swept her off her feet, they married after a whirlwind romance, and then ... well, he was a hero to a lot of people in Quebec and she was a good Catholic girl from a conservative family who had a baby on the way.

"What made you leave?" Laurent asked in the flat sort of voice that Issac knew meant he was straining to keep a lid on it.

"I had just returned to work -- you were a year old -- and I showed up for a shoot in Vancouver with bruises the makeup crew couldn't cover. The photographer, she took me aside. Got me to people who could keep me safe from him."

She fought for custody, of course, but she was barely 21, with a high school education, not much of a career to speak of, and well, _he_ had a lot more money and power behind him, and the NHL wanted no scandal. Her family blamed her for the divorce, and didn't speak to her for years after.

She got a suitcase of clothes and a few personal possessions -- the ones _he_ didn't destroy -- a one time settlement of $95,000, and a threat from him of what would happen if he ever saw her again.

She sent multiple letters and gifts to Laurent over the years. 

"I never got anything. All my life he told me you didn't want me and left just after I was born," Laurent managed to croak out while his hand clenched down on Issac's beneath the table.

Tears welled up in her eyes and her face crumpled at the news. When she regained her composure, she explained she suspected that maybe her mail wasn't getting through, so she tried again a few years ago via the Ravens home office. Her package was returned to sender, but only after Penis St. Dickhead had … annotated … it.

As for the rest? After modeling petered out, she went back to school and now lived in Sherbrooke, Quebec, and worked as a curator for the local fine art museum.

Issac couldn't quite stop a chortle at that. "Looks like you got more than looks from your mom, Saint."

At her arched eyebrow, Laurent replied, "I'm studying Art."

"Show her your sketches, Saint." 

It took a little doing, but at last he relented and pulled out his sketchbook.

She happy cried all the way through, wiping unashamedly at her tears with a napkin, and that open show of joy and pride at Laurent's talent shattered the last of the ice between them, and got him to open up. (And also to stop squeezing Issac's hand to a pulp beneath the table.)

She made them leave the Waffle House at 2:30 after learning that Issac had a game the next day. "Take your handsome beau home to sleep, _mon coeur_ , plenty of time for talk tomorrow, but I'll need a ticket for the game, too." She winked at Isaac.

It was a quiet ride in Jeep on the way home, because even though it'd ultimately been a good night, it's been a _long_ night, and they're both tired. 

Quiet, until Laurent rubbed at his jaw and said out of nowhere, "My face hurts."

Issac snorted with laughter. "Saint, we've been smiling non-stop for the past three hours, because your long-lost mom is just that fucking awesome. _Of course_ our faces hurt."


End file.
